Loyalty Bordering on Insanity
by Moiranne Rose
Summary: When you've been loyal for too long, it's hard to draw the line as to when to give in. M for rape/non-con


A/N: Another What If

_A/N: Another What If? Story written while a headache is threatening to make me tear all my hair out, a stack of assessments (Chinese ones, God, I hate them) and god knows what homework stare ominously at me. And I manage a weak sheepish grin in return._

_**Prompt: What if Elena wasn't captured, but Reno was? Then how would the Remnants react? – Courtesy of a friend of mine, who's as addicted as I am, which is saying a lot.**_

_I may be young but I know about what happens to girls my age in other countries. Hell, even boys for that matter. So don't be disturbed by the content, it's all in good taste, and it's seriously just a thought process. I got this email talking about all the disgusting things they do to children, which include prostitution, rape and graphic violence. It was a petition to stop it, so I signed my name on the bottom and sent it to everyone I know. I promise, I'll keep this away from…uncomfortable…situations and stick to violence and imagined atrocities. I'm leaving it to your imagination to think what it all means._

_This is dedicated to all those people who experience things they shouldn't when they're young and is for all those spoilt brats who think that every child in the world has a fun childhood._

Tseng wondered about the real reason why they put the cells so close to the torture chamber, with walls that were so thin that he could hear the grunts of pain and raucous laughter that followed them. He was trying to sleep, in these small hour-long periods while the prisoners had both been tortured and had fainted that it wasn't as fun to push them to their limits. They had to be conscious to respond when they were hit, or burnt, or kicked or all the things that they had done on them both.

He heard their ominous footsteps approaching the cell doors. The metal tipped boots that had so often made contact with his stomach and ribs, accompanied by the rhythmic hitting of a heavy impact baton upon a palm, one that was normally used to hit the joints or those limbs that weren't broken yet (and there were precious few). They always went after Reno first. His cell door was just bars, enough to see Reno's crumpled body hauled up and dragged to the chamber. He himself lacked the energy to stand, but he knew Reno got it worst than him. They hadn't touched Tseng in days, three days to be exact, counting by the scratching on the walls. Apparently, they had chosen to centre their efforts on Reno.

Reno was taking it better than he expected. He hadn't said a word. He knew, since he had heard the silences after each question, never once saying anything. He never thought Reno could take torture that well, but then again, he wasn't a Turk for nothing. They were picked on the basis of hardiness, speed, agility and aptitude. For all his cockiness and his unruly behavior, he remained indispensable in Turk.

Something had happened in there that he didn't know about, and now, it was culminating in a terrible cacophony of sounds that he couldn't for the life of him, block out. There were the same questions, where is Mother? Where have you kept her? Why did you keep her? Each followed by a stony silence as Turk loyalty reigned and then thunks or thwaps or hits followed, along with crashes, grunts and sometimes, if it happened to be the impact baton or Reno's own EMR, a scream.

Tseng's heart sunk with every blow. But this time, it was different; the smacks weren't as incessant and grunt-causing. They were more purposeful and accompanied by repeated whispers of "No…please…not this". He strained to here more but all he heard was another clunk, presumably a boot making contact with a stomach before a muted silence and gasping, as Reno wheezed for breath. What were they doing to him?

Then it dawned on him. No, they wouldn't do this, not _supposed _to do this. No, NO! But in his mind, he knew that it was precisely because they weren't supposed to do this that they _were_ doing it. His eyes burned with tears. They wouldn't do this to Reno. Would they?

The answer came back at him, of course they would. They weren't human, they were robots, Remnants of that ruthless Sephiroth. There was no stopping them. He prayed to whatever God there was up there to make Reno give in. He knew that that would be betraying Rufus, but that was better than living knowing that you were raped by a robot Remnant while being watched by two others. But he knew Reno's iron hard mentality would never allow it.

As he heard the screams turn into sobbing, grunts of some form of gruesome pleasure filled the dank atmosphere of the building. Tseng laid his head against the tin wall and tried to close his eyes against the noise that was grating on his mind and heart, imprinting itself into his memory. He refused to close his eyes. He knew if he did, pictures, images would torment him. What was happening on the other side of the wall was not unknown to him. He knew what they were doing. And he could do nothing. He had never felt so helpless.

He had always sworn to himself that he would protect his Turks, Reno in particular. When he leapt from the helicopter he had been piloting, transferring the controls to Rude, EMR in hand, he had sealed his sentence. He had shielded Elena from the bullets that whistled towards her and given her the precious time to jump into the helicopter and be whizzed away.

Reno's heart was too kind to be in Turk, somehow. If he hadn't jumped out, it would have been Elena in his place. If he hadn't taken that bullet, it wouldn't still be embedded in his body, causing him extra pain on top of the agony of daily tortures. If he had said something, revealed something, he would have been spared this humiliation. Yet, as he heard the sobbing die down and sadistic laughter fill the air; he realized why this was all worth it.

As he heard the torture chambers doors open, and Reno's limp body carried like a rag doll back to his cell, a seeping trail of blood behind him, Tseng felt a rush of comprehension from some unknown origin. As the cell door clanged shut with an odd finality, he understood. Reno hadn't done this for fun; it was so he could hold his head up everyday and know that he hadn't faltered under pain, even when the scars would follow him the rest of his life. Because, there were some things that had to be protected, and there were some sacrifices that had to be made, even if it meant, even if it required all you had.

Wait, was that gunshots he heard? A flowing red filled the corridors, blurred whether with his failing vision, or tears of relief.

Then there was a flash of green material glow and then blackness.

A/N: So it wasn't as graphic or gory as it's meant to be. But I put it as M only because it deals with imagined sticky situations and I need to cover my butt. I took inspiration from Kite Runner if you want to know. It's a fantastic book. Seriously. Anyway, I thought of this as a test exercise for What If stories that everyone seems to love. Whoo hoo.

Originally done on August 1, 2008


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